


All I Want For Christmas | Shawn Mendes

by Softboyshawn



Category: Shawn Mendes (Musician)
Genre: Best Friends, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, F/M, Friends to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-11
Updated: 2018-12-11
Packaged: 2019-09-16 15:03:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16956225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Softboyshawn/pseuds/Softboyshawn
Summary: Summary: You and Shawn grew up together, best friends since you were seven years old and you’ve both had it bad for each other for years. It’s finally time for you both to admit how you feel, and what better time than Christmas?





	All I Want For Christmas | Shawn Mendes

The year you turned thirteen Shawn stole your heart, but he has no idea. How could he? You never told him how you felt, how he is all you think about for 365 days a year, wondering where he is, what he’s doing, if he’s happy. This year is no different. You don’t know why you put yourself through the agony of seeing him once or twice a year, you could just stay home, claim you were sick and try to move on. But part of you doesn’t want that. It lives for seeing Shawn, a little glimmer of hope keeps burning deep inside you that one day he will just know. One day he will realize that you’re everything he wants and needs.

That day was going to come a lot sooner than you could have guessed.

Christmas morning. You’re sat on the big black sofa in the Mendes’ living room, snow is falling outside, the coffee is brewing in the kitchen. Everything screams Christmas. Presents under the giant tree, the mantel and windows decorated in matching white and gold decor. Karen went all out for the holidays and for that you’re grateful. Your parents never got really into Christmas, they just didn’t think it was that important. You are grateful for the Mendes’ invite to their place for Christmas every year since you were very young. Now you spend Christmas Eve until New Years with them, your parents having moved out of state years ago.

The Mendes’ were your neighbors and you’d grown up with Shawn and Aaliyah, they were like your family, the siblings you never had. Well, that’s how it was until you turned thirteen you developed the biggest crush on Shawn. Looking back it’s kind of funny. He was a brace faced teenager with skater hair and pierced ears. Kind of a douchebag look but back then you were seriously into it. That doesn’t matter though, because Shawn grew out of that phase and into the man he has become now and your feelings haven’t changed. If anything they’ve gotten stronger.

Footsteps creak across the ceiling from the floor above. There’s only one person who is big enough to make the floorboards creak. Shawn. Sure enough you hear him coming down the stairs and then he appears at the archway into the small foyer. His hair is mess, he has lines on his face from the weird breathing machine he wore to bed that supposedly helped his vocal cords. His pants are tucked into his socks and his shirt is a wrinkled mess. Wow. Amazing what a multi platinum two time Grammy nominated artist really looks like.

“Hey, what’re you up for?” Shawn ask, voice rough with sleep, words slurring ever so slightly.

“Couldn’t sleep. It’s Christmas y'know, just the jitters of excitement.”

Shawn hums and walks over, flopping on the sofa beside you. He smells like sleep, that rich deep heady boyish scent, and his woodsy spicy cologne but very faded. He slumps against you, fluffy hair in your face as he lays his head on your shoulder.

“Go sleep in your own bed if you’re going back to sleep!” You laugh, shoving him upright. The guy is so heavy you can’t keep him up as he goes limp against you. The little shit.

“No, you’re a much better pillow,” he groans, rubbing his head into your arm. “You smell good too.”

That comment catches you completely off guard. Heat flares in your cheeks, burning you up from your scalp to your neck. You’re sure he doesn’t meant it in a way other than stating a fact. He couldn’t possibly. You’re definitely reading too far into it.

“You smell good as well?”

“Liar,” he grins and you can feel his cheek rise against your bicep. “I smell like I haven’t showered and I have sleep breath.”

“How would you know? You can’t smell yourself.”

Shawn sits up and crosses his arms as he lays against the other arm of the sofa. He looks at you in a way you’re sure he shouldn’t. A playful smile on his face, eyes alight with mischief. You had been around him long enough to know when he was teasing you. He is such a boy you can’t stand it, but you also love it.

“I know what I smell like.”

“Yeah sure.” You roll your eyes. What he was getting at, you have no idea.

“Wanna know what you smell like?”

You laugh. “No? I probably smell like soap, why are we even talking about this?”

It’s Shawn’s turn to roll his eyes. “You don’t smell like just soap. You smell like home.”

You’re not sure what to say to that or how to take it really. Was he implying you smelled like his house? Or was your perfume the same as Karen’s? What did home smell like? That is so weird but complimentary in a bizarre way.

“What does home smell like exactly?”

Shawn closes his eyes and leans his head back, shifting so his legs stretch out across your lap. He smiles to himself, Adam’s apple bobbing as he finds the words to describe home. “Home smells like warm sugar cookies and vanilla. It smells like apples and mint, a combination of soft and rich warmth.”

“You’re just describing my perfume and shampoo, Shawn.”

“I know. Because I’m describing you, and you smell like home.”

“That’s weird.”

Shawn sits up, legs still across your lap. “You didn’t tell Aaliyah what she told me, did you?”

You shake your head. “What?”

“Aaliyah said you have a crush on me? She said you told her, and that you like my cologne and that you wanted her to tell me so it wouldn’t be weird. So you don’t have a crush on me?”

You can feel your stomach plunge to your knees. That familiar cold sick feeling washes over you. Aaliyah had a big mouth. You mentioned it once a few months ago, that Shawn was the type of guy you’d like to date and you happened to like his cologne. You never explicitly said that Shawn was someone you had a thing for. Jesus Christ and the little donkey, this was a mess you were not going to talk your way out of.

“It’s… complicated.”

“Complicated. Yeah. I get it.”

“Are you being defensive right now?”

Shawn runs a hand through his hair and tugs. “I’m not trying to be. Honestly, it was a huge relief when Aaliyah told me that you had a crush on me because I’ve always wanted to be more with you too. But like I didn’t want it to be weird, and I know you’re close with the family and I didn’t want to do something wrong and strain your relationship with everyone, because that would be selfish and-” he takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, head in his hands. “I’ve just fucked up.”

You reach over and lay your hand on his back. It’s warm, even through the shirt, you can feel the heat his skin is radiating. It makes you think back to when all three of you camped in their backyard as kids and Shawn kept you warm all night with his back pressed to yours. What you’d give to have that familiar heat again, but in your bed, his arm around your stomach.

“Aaliyah didn’t lie, and you haven’t fucked up. It’s just complicated because of the reasons you listed. I’ve be so scared of ruining our friendship, my friendship with your family, that is why I never told you how I felt.”

“Do you want to try? I know I’ll be gone again come mid January but we’ve got a week or two to try?”

You rub your hand over his flannel pant leg, sighing softly. What if it didn’t work out? You hate to live in fear of the what if’s but this was one of those things that you can’t come back from. “I don’t know Shawn. With your work you can’t really keep up a relationship, so why try if we know it’s not going to work?”

“You’re right. Then why don’t we just try being more familiar then? Y'know, to see if we’re comfortable with each other.”

“No strings attached? No feelings?”

“I can’t promise no feelings, you know I’m one to get attached.”

You roll your eyes. “Okay, fine. We can try being closer, just to see if it’s comfortable.”

“Deal.”

_______________

Everyone wakes up shortly after your discussion with Shawn and join the two of you in the living room. It was strange, feeling like you’d finally gotten what you’ve always wanted, but not really. You have to remind yourself it’s temporary, it’s no strings attached. Shawn wasn’t yours, he couldn’t be. The only thing that he belonged to was his music and by proxy, himself.

You try not to over think it as Shawn takes a seat beside you, passing you a mug of black coffee. Everyone said the two of you were crazy for drinking your coffee this way, but you liked it. Creamer made it watery and too sweet. Opening presents goes by in a blur. You’re too focused on Shawn’s arm around your shoulders, his hand on your leg, his chuckle reverberating through your body when he leaned against you. Every little thing was putting you on edge, breaking your heart over and over until breakfast was being made and everyone dispersed, leaving you and Shawn alone again.

You don’t say anything to him as you stand up and head for the guest bedroom. You don’t know what to say. How could you tell him the deal was already off? How do you tell him you don’t want to be teased even though that’s not what he was doing, not purposely. You agreed to this, to be closer, more comfortable with each other. It wasn’t even a few hours in and you were falling apart like a snowflake on a warm palm and it was killing you.

“Did I do something wrong?” Shawn asks from the doorway and you glance back. He has his hand on the frame, just barely leaning into the room.

You shake your head from where you’re sitting on the bed, turning so your back is to him. “No, it’s just me. I’m not feeling well.”

“Liar. Come on, talk to me.”

“No, I’m fine. Really.”

The door clicks closed and the bed sinks under Shawn’s weight as he crawls on to it behind you. His hand finds its way up your back and he massages his fingertips against your spine, sending a shiver throughout your whole body. “This is about our agreement isn’t it?”

“No.”

“Because I can’t do no strings attached either. I’m all or nothing, you know that. And I know my job is demanding and I can’t be home all the time, or even half the time really. But I’ve never wanted something so bad, I just…this…us…it feels right. It feels like if I give up on this now I’m going to lose the only chance I’ll ever get.”

Tears stream down your face and you wish you could stop them. You don’t want him to see. He would blame himself. You had no idea he was wanting you as long as you’d wanted him. He is right though, this feels like your only chance. Like it’s now or never to decide if there was something between the two of you and it’s ridiculous to feel that way. You’re both only twenty. Your whole lives were ahead of you, why did this feel so dire?

“I don’t know what to do,” you sniff.

Shawn shifts, crawling around so he can see you and the moment he does his face falls. He cups your face, thumbs wiping fresh tears as they spill over. He had seen you cry before, countless times. Everything from scraped knees to getting dumped at homecoming. But those tears weren’t his fault, he knew how to fix tears that he didn’t cause. But right now, looking at you, his broken heart written all over his face, you know he doesn’t know how to fix this.

“I’ll take some time. I’ll tell Andrew I want time off, that I’m overwhelmed. He will understand.” Shawn says softly as he stroke his thumbs back and forth over your splotchy cheeks.

You shake your head as best you can. “You can’t take off. You have fans and appearances. You can’t just take time off like your job is a regular nine to five. Don’t be stupid.”

“It’s not stupid. I need to do this.”

“You don’t. Your just heart sick, you feel bad for me because I’m crying. You will not cancel appointments and shows for me. I won’t let you.”

Shawn slides his hands away from your face and wipes them on the bed. He takes your hands and threads his fingers between yours. His large fingers dwarf yours as he brings them up to kiss. “Just one extra week. I don’t have a show until February. January is just a photo shoot and some radio interviews. “

“Shawn, no. I’ll just see you when you get home. It’s fine, I’m fine.”

“I can’t let this go. I just can’t.”

“I’m not going to feel different when you leave again. You’re still going to have my whole heart. Believe me, if I’ve lasted the past seven years, I think I can make a it a few more weeks.”

Shawn shakes his head. “I have to listen to my gut. I need to stay here, I just need to. Not just for you but for myself.”

“God, why did Aaliyah have to open her big mouth,” you laugh as you wipe at your tears.

“It was supposed to happen. I like to think everything happens for a reason.”

“Yeah? What’s the reason for her spilling my guts? To give me a Christmas heartbreak?”

“No, it’s so I can do this.” Shawn wraps his arms around you and hauls you against him. He kisses your cheek and you stare at him, faces inches away. “And this.” He kisses your nose. His lips hover over yours, breath warm and damp. “And this.” He presses his lips to yours sweetly.

Your whole body comes to life, his kiss sending a spark through your veins. Your heart clenches, brain shuts down, body goes lax against him. A soft moan escapes your lips and you feel him smile, teeth against your wet lips for just a brief moment.

“That was a kiss,” you mutter, just barely parted from Shawn, foreheads pressed together. “You kissed me.”

“I did, and I’d like to keep doing it. Will you let me?”

“Tell me this is real. Tell me that this feels right.”

He bumps your nose with his. “It’s very real, and I know this is right, that we are right together.”

You look at him, eyes inches from his searching for some sign that this was a dream. “Promise me that you won’t change your mind about us.”

Shawn nods, head rocking against yours. “I promise.”

“Okay, you can kiss me again.”

Shawn presses his lips to yours, mouth soft and plush. He takes his time, slowly drawing your lips between his just to release them and go in again. “Thank you,” he mutters between kisses.

“For what?”

“Giving me my only wish this year.”

“Me?”

He nods, forehead resting against your once more. “You.” He captures your mouth for one more kiss as he says, with a smile, “Merry Christmas.”


End file.
